


Like Mother

by draculard



Category: American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, Implied/Referenced Incest, Inappropriate use of mirrors, Masturbation, inappropriate use of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 22:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18020057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: When Cordelia looks in the mirror, she doesn't always see herself staring back.





	Like Mother

Fiona left her lingerie behind. Silk slips, lace razorback chemises in dark colors that complement her skin, ribbed corsets, thigh-highs and babydolls. All of it crowded in Cordelia’s closet, taking up unnecessary space -- but Cordelia couldn’t bear to throw them away.

They were all her size. She slipped a dark green corset on, but had to use magic to do up the ties. It cupped her breasts, squeezed her waist with just enough gentle pressure to be pleasant. Cordelia stood in front of the mirror with the corset on and nothing else, her pupils blown wide. 

She didn’t have Fiona’s thick, wavy hair, but they were the same shade of blonde, and for a moment she saw her mother peeking back at her through the glass. Saw Fiona’s soft brown eyes; her full lips, a dusty shade of pink; her perfect skin, her high cheekbones, her impeccable bone structure.

Even further, she could see Fiona in her own breasts, the curve of her hips, the length and smoothness of her legs and the graceful arch of her neck. She saw Fiona in the bare spot between her legs. Cordelia used magic to keep herself hairless, but she knew that Fiona waxed, because she relished the spark of pain.

Fiona liked a lot of things Cordelia didn’t -- the edge of a knife against her skin, the push of something firm and thick inside her, cool air on her skin as she stripped, lavish gifts and public humiliation, the sharp bite of disgrace. Cordelia could fathom none of these things; she felt sometimes like a little girl hovering in the doorway of her mother’s bedroom, too anxious to go inside.

Cordelia slipped her hand between her legs. Her fingers were gentle, not like Fiona’s had been. She could see her reaction in the mirror, the way a flush spread over her whole body, the slight trembling of her knees. When she didn’t look herself in the eye, she could pretend she was staring at someone else. 

Someone older, someone harsher. Someone more daring. 

Cordelia closed her eyes and her magic sparked. Phantom hands surrounded her, caressing her hips, snaking up inside her corset to touch her breasts. If they were a little rougher than she liked, she didn’t notice. If the nails sometimes dug into her skin too harshly, left little white indents in the middle of her blush, she didn’t care.

That’s how Fiona would have liked it.


End file.
